


Of Portals and Pines

by KiraLioden, MadasaMoriarty



Category: Gravity Falls, Portal (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Guess who actually wrote it into the story though, Independently thought by both authors, Kind of CarolinexFord, Potential violence, That was a sort of accident
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-03-13 03:52:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13562220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiraLioden/pseuds/KiraLioden, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadasaMoriarty/pseuds/MadasaMoriarty
Summary: Welcome to the crossover/AU nobody but these two writers asked for. Mainly because we're both nerds.So far has low-key CarolinexFord.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you see a [number], it means there was some discussion between the two authors at that point.
> 
> Most of the discussions are put into the end notes.
> 
> There was one that I had, er, accidently deleted. It wasn't a very important one, though.
> 
> Comments are much appreciated, and at least one author thrives off them. Take a guess who.

**_[1] [2]_ **

It looked so much like home.

It must've been some sort of alternate Earth- one a couple decades in the past, too. He'd found a newspaper, and while it was most certainly in English, the year printed below the headline was 1958. He also appeared to be in Michigan.

If it were just the year and place that was off, getting back to the proper time in Gravity Falls would have been a cinch. But it was the other thing on the newspaper that told him he was definitely somewhere else.

There was this Aperture Science Innovators place (what idiot named a company after a camera hole?), supposedly famous throughout the country. He had never heard of it, and even as a child, he had scrambled to learn as much about science and it's researchers as he could. If it were even half as famous as the paper said, Ford would have heard of it. But he hadn't.

It was a disappointment, to say the least. But coming this close to a major science facility (stupid name aside) meant he had a chance to borrow a few parts and rig it into a sort of micro-portal.

Yes, chances were low, but it was about as high as it could get.

Now, only to find Aperture...

* * *

Sneaking into the building was ridiculously easy. Finding parts laying around was a little more of a problem, but soon enough, he did find a variety of metal bits on a shelf next to a slightly ajar door.

As he took the pieces off the shelf, he heard voices from the room. He stood still, not wanting to alert whoever was inside.

"Is there something wrong, you two?" he heard a woman ask.

"Ma'am-"

"Craig..."

"Ah, right, M- uh, Caroline. It's the..."

Satisfied that they weren't alerted to his presence, he didn't bother to continue listening. He took a few more items off the shelf and slipped inside the first empty room he could find. It seemed to be a broom closet. 

The chances of a janitor coming by was fairly slim, at least in comparison with other rooms and employees, so it should be safe enough. And even in its darkness, it wasn't too bad. It honestly reminded him of the times he stayed at his desk writing in the journals. He moved a little further in the room, fumbling for a light switch, his foot catching in a bucket and nearly sending him sprawling into a wall. 

"Shit!" The word came out to loud and he froze, straining for a sign that someone had heard him. There wasn't any. 

Forcing himself to relax he found the light switch, the little bulb hanging from the ceiling casting a grey glow as he turned it on. Sighing, He began to fiddle with the pieces. It didn't take long for him to realize none of them seemed very useful for the purpose of a portal. Yes, they were useful in the sense screws were useful, but they weren't going to help him right now.

He gave himself a nice mental kick in the butt for not paying enough attention to what he was grabbing.

Then there was a knock at the door. Ford stiffened, the pieces he was tinkering with momentarily forgotten. If he were found- no, he couldn't be thinking of that. He _was_ going to get back home. 

"Sir, are you in there? We've already discussed this. Broom closets do not have Black Mesa spies in them." It sounded like the woman he heard earlier. Caroline, the employees called her.

After a minute of no reply, she knocked again, a tired note entering her voice. "Sir? Really, there's no point hiding- I know you're in there. And I'm not _mad_ , if that's why you're pretending to not be inside. Please just come out."

There was literally no way out without her seeing him. Ford mentally cursed himself for his lack of foresight.

He heard her sigh. "Mr. Johnson, I'll open the door now."

The closet door freaked open.

_Crap, crap, crap-_

"Sir-" She stopped, looking baffled. Understandably, but why was he noting that, dammit. "Excuse me, but who are you?"

"Uh... uh..." Thinking fast and really not thinking at all, Ford seized a rag from one of the nearby buckets and flung it at her. It collided with her face with a wet smack, dripping dirty water onto her perfectly pressed blouse. She peeled it off slowly, holding it delicately between two manicured nails, before dropping it to the floor and regarding him with an unimpressed expression.

Ford cleared his throat nervously, twiddling all twelve fingers. "I'm honestly not sure what I expected that to do..." 

"I wouldn't know either," she replied dryly. "You have a minute to explain yourself before I call security." The woman looked him up and down, then added, "Though if you happen to be from Black Mesa, you can skip the explaining and just hand over all the Aperture equipment you are holding. As much as I'd hate to fuel Mr. Johnson's paranoia, spies are definitely not welcome here."

"No, I'm not from this Black Mesa place, whatever the hell that it is." He glared at her her, feeling off kilter and hating every second. **_[3]_**

She pursed her lips. "Then, pray tell, why the hell are you hiding in a broom closet?"

He cleared his throat again and softened his expression, standing a little taller and shoving his abnormal hands deep into the pockets of his trench coat, hiding bits of equipment as he did so. 

"Would you believe I'm the new janitor?" 

Her eyes flicked down to follow his hands, her own frown deepening. 

"No. I would not." 

"Damn." 

She shook her head and muttered something about "spies not being this stupid." Ford was insulted- yes, his social ability needed work, but _he had 12 PhDs_. He was not _stupid_. Well, actually, he did a few stupid things- a few very stupid things- but that did _not_ mean he was stupid. **_[4]_**

"Alright, I have no idea who you are-"

"Personal assistant to the CEO of Aperture Science Innovators," she interrupted. "As Mr. Johnson puts it, the backbone of the facility. And I'll be honest, it's a stressful position, and I'd rather not waste time on mysterious men in trench coats that are clearly trying to pocket our technology. So please, hand the pieces over before my patience runs out."

Ford huffed, taking empty hands out of his pockets to cross them over his chest, feeling the comforting outline of his hastily made laser-gun under his palm. **_[5]_**

"Look lady, I don't care if you're the heart of this damn facility. I risked a lot getting in here, I'm not about to undo all that just because some toothpick in a wet shirt tells me to!" His face had reddened as he spoke and his hands were now angry fists. 

The woman's own face had gone pink and she stared at him with eyes that sparked with fury. Nice eyes. Not that he was taking the time to notice that sort of thing. It didn't matter one iota to him what color her eyes were (a sort of honeyed brown) or what she looked like when she was smiling (lovely, probably. Not that it mattered.)

She took a breath, definitely trying to keep her composure. "I would like to inform you that our development of turrets is doing quite well, and I can call security to toss you in a room full of the little robots. It'll be a nasty bit of paperwork, but I can assure you I've handled much worse."

"The hell is a turrip?" He noted the hand she had on the radio at her hip and his own inched beneath the collar of his coat, stroking the handle of his gun. He wondered if these little robots had any parts he could use to jury rig his way home... the stuff he'd brought into the closet was proving less than useful. Probably why they had been so easy to get a hold of.

Her fingers tapped at the radio, though the action seemed to be done unconsciously. "Turrets, sentry turrets. Designed for home defense. Since we're still working out all the bugs, they'll shoot at almost anything that moves. And though the bullets may be spring-propelled, they are rather sharp and painful." She stepped closer. Though she must have been a good several inches shorter than him, Ford couldn't help but feel little cowed under her practically-death glare.

"So go ahead, pull out whatever gun you have hidden in your coat," she continued. "Shoot me. I dare you."

With his face beet-red and scowling furiously Ford jerked the gun from his coat, being sure to keep his finger off the trigger and the barrel pointed at the floor. Damn woman and her damn threats. Her fingers were still pinging off the little hand held at her hip, but no other part of her seemed to move. Her glare didn't waiver from his face for longer than it took to take in the gun at his side. Ford flicked the safety off, his heart was pounding, adrenaline rushing through him. He was so close. So close to going home. Aperture had everything he needed to get a portal open. He'd seen it, all the components of dimension travel split up between a hundred lesser projects. All that stood in his way was one mouthy woman. 

She wouldn't be the first person he'd shot. Not even the first person he'd shot today, and he certainly hoped that kid made a full recovery. But it felt different with her. Different in a way Ford couldn't put any of his fingers on. Felt like maybe if he shot this woman, he would be taking a step away from himself in a way that could never be undone. This wasn't a spur of the moment thing done while he had fear filling up the space between his ears. This was premeditated. Calculated. One step down from murder... he didn't want to do it. But did he really have a choice? 

Moving slow he brought the gun to bear, making sure to keep it pointed more toward her shoulder than her heart. 

"Listen lady, I don't want to hurt you." 

"Glad to know you have the morality to not want to shoot a woman," she sniped. "But I don't want to be fired from my job. I've worked hard to get here, and I am not losing it all because I let a trespasser keep the things he stole. I've been nice so far- if I followed protocol, I would have radioed security and let them handle you. And trust me, they would do things to you that would make my threats sound pleasant."

She waved a hand vaguely at his pockets. "Besides, what good would those parts do for you?"

"What parts?" It was a poor attempt at deception and he knew it. The woman's expression didn't change, but her fingers tightened on her radio. He sighed and his arm dropped. "Won't really know until I start trying to pound 'um together." He removed a few of the bits from his pocket, turning them over in his hands. "With enough time and the right kind of energy I may be able to cobble these things into some sort of..." He stopped, his whole body sagging in defeat. "Ah, you know what? Forget it...Here." He tossed the bits of equipment at her feet, ignoring the way she jerked in alarm, even though it hurt some part of him to see it. "Your parts are shit anyway."  

"When used appropriately, they are most certainly not shit," she said, not with hostility, just a little insulted. The lady picked up the pieces, carefully counting and inspecting each one. Satisfied, she looked back at him, her fury dimmed into some form of pity. "You're desperate."

She hesitated, then let out a soft sigh before continuing. "My shift for the day ends in an hour, but I'm fairly sure I can convince Greg to start his a little earlier. So here's a proposal: you wait for me outside, and once my shift's over, we can answer each other's questions. I know the both of us have answers the other seeks."

For a moment he wanted to be angry. Wanted to go on the defensive. Throw a fit. Wave his gun around. But. As much as he hated to admit it, he  _was_ desperate. Desperate enough to accept the help of a strange woman in a broom closet. 

"Fine." He tucked his gun away, watching her carefully as if she might try to take it off him. "We'll talk. And maybe you can get me some parts that aren't  _shit."_

"They are not- oh, forget it. A moment, please." She left the closet. He heard the clink of metal against metal, and soon she poked her head around the door. "We'll see about the parts later. Come on, the exit's this way. **_[6]_**

* * *

"The exit doors silently slid open. Ford was about to step out when the lady placed a hand on his shoulder.

"In case anyone confronts you for loitering, tell them Caroline told you to stay there." She paused. "If they don't leave, just... tell them I'll give them a one-way ticket to hell if they persist. Just in case." **_[7]_**

"Er-right." The woman- Caroline-slipped her hand from his shoulder and he moved toward the doors. "Wait-" It was his turn to put a hand on her shoulder and she stilled, face turning so he could see the edge of a raised eyebrow. He felt suddenly self conscious and forced himself to shake it off. She was just a woman. A beautiful woman. He shook that off too. He was shit with women. He spoke before his thoughts could devolve further- words rushed and a shade too loud. "Why are you doing this?" He took a breath, softening his voice. "You don't know me from Bill. Hell, I don't know  _you._ So what are you doing? Really? What's in this for you?" Her eyes flicked to his hand and he dropped it, suddenly hyper aware of his extra pinkie and trying not to show it. 

"Who's B- no, no, that can wait. As for your question, I've already said it," she said, turning to face him properly. "You have answers I need."

"How would you know that?" He crossed his arms grumpily, scowling so deeply it threatened to push the glasses off his face. 

"You've never heard of Black Mesa- so either you've been living under a rock for the last several years, or you came from somewhere else entirely. Aperture's been researching alternate universes for a while now, so it's a distinct possibility that you came from another universe. If that were the case, you had to pass through some sort of... portal that connected your world to ours." She pushed a strand of hair away from her face. "You might just hold the information Aperture needs to complete the Perpetual Testing Initiative project. And even if you didn't, at least I found a guy who can make his own tools. Very nice laser gun, by the way. It's quite-" **_[8]_**

The radio at her hip emitted a garbled noise. He couldn't make out the words, but the lady sure seemed to. Caroline looked at Ford apologetically. "I've got to get back- I'll try to be back soon."

He had questions, about a million tapping against the back of his teeth, but she disappeared before he could blurt any of them out. He stared after her, arms still crossed limply, pale sun beating against the back of his neck. Ford thought of leaving. He felt like a moron standing in front of the Aperture building like a naughty child, waiting for a lady who might not come back. But... it felt like home was closer than it had been in almost _three years_ and if the worst he had to do to get there was stand on the sidewalk for an hour or two, well, he was willing to do worse. So he waited. **_[9]_**

Time seemed to tick by slowly. The sun hardly moved, but it felt like eons had passed.

Finally, she came out of the building, pulling on a light jacket. She gave Ford a bit of a sheepish smile. "Sorry I kept you waiting- there was a mess I had to help tidy up." Caroline clapped her hands together. "So, about all those questions- There's a pretty nice café nearby. How about I treat us both with a nice coffee first?"

_**[10]** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **The Authors Talking to Each Other and/or Goofing Off:**  
>     
>  **[1]:**  
>  **Kira-** "Let's talk this over a cup of coffee. Come on, I know a nice cafe." -Caroline, end line. What causes her to say it is totally unplanned  
>  **Rani-** Ford would totally break into Aperture. Maybe him and Caroline meet and threaten each other. That is my contribution...sorry I'm worthless.  
>  **Kira-** I can work with that.  
>  _Kira later ends up writing something similar, but not quite that, as the end line_
> 
>  **[2]:**  
>  **Kira-** Also, we need some stuff here. Any ideas?   
>  **Rani-** Why do we need stuff here?  
>  **Kira-** Because I don't want to start off with a jarring beginning? How would a reader know why he was there?   
>  **Rani-** Hmm. I'll think on it. We wouldn't need much.  
>  **Kira-** Very true. 
> 
> **[3]:**  
>  _regarding the sentence just prior_  
>  **Kira-** I note some more detail would be nice here lol. But I suck at that  
>  **Rani-** I added a bit to the dialogue, feel free to take it out  
>  **Kira-** It's good. :3
> 
>  **[4]:**  
>  _regarding Caroline's reaction to Ford's pathetic lie_  
>  **Kira-** She should actually do the pinch-the-bridge-of-nose thing, but I'm not exactly sure what it's called.  
>  _Rani literally just adds "pinching the bridge of her nose" to the sentence_  
>  **Rani-** I added it for you :p  
>  **Kira-** Rani, if you're going to do that, I swear I'll pull a move Rick wanted to do to Fact Core.  
>  **Kira-** It's [this line,](https://i1.theportalwiki.net/img/0/05/Adventure_core_factresponse03.wav) so you know.
> 
>  **[5]:**  
>  _regarding the laser gun Ford has_  
>  **Rani-** Laser Gun? Yes?  
>  **Kira-**   Ford+Aperture definitely equals laser gun
> 
>  **[6]:**  
>  **Kira-** Tralala I'm lazy as heck. I can write the hall walking bit if you don't want to.  
>  **Rani-** I just put a breaker in and let people assume what they want
> 
>  **[7]:**  
>  _regarding a previous version of the line that was really weird grammatically_  
>  **Rani-** You might want to re-read that sentence...  
>  **Kira-** Am I missing something? I can't... see anything. EDIT: I'm a moron hold on.  
>  _ends up still really confusing because Kira is an overly-drowsy writer, and eventually she writes the line all over again. And then it was better._
> 
>  **[8]:**  
>  _regarding the "[...] portal that connected your world to ours," was originally "[...] portal that connected his world to ours"_  
>  **Rani-** I changed a word, feel free to change it back. It was originally 'his'  
>  **Kira-** lol that slipped by me. From a previous version of the sentence.  
>  **Rani-** Oh, I do that all the time!
> 
>  **[9]:**  
>  _regarding "[...] it felt like home was closer than it had been in almost three years [...]," originally "[...] it felt like home was closer than it had been in months/years [...]"_  
>  **Rani-** you can pick the one that fits  
>  _Kira writes "almost three years" instead of the options given_  
>  **Kira-** IMMA REBEL  
>  **Rani-** I embrace your rebelliousness!
> 
> **[10]:**  
>  _The authors goofed off here. They also discussed possible future chapters, so hence they were removed. Sorry._
> 
> _Not really_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you see a [number], it means there was some discussion between the two authors at that point.
> 
> Most of the discussions are put into the end notes.
> 
> Comments are much appreciated, and at least one author thrives off them. Take a guess who.
> 
> (The chapter wasn't written with seriousness in mind. I might come around and spruce it up later so things don't feel OOC/little odd)

_**[1]** _

Ford shifted in his seat, listening to the plastic squeak with a grimace. Caroline was standing in line for the register and he felt exposed without her there to buffer peoples stares. He could see his face in the shine of the napkin dispenser and he was honestly a bit surprised Caroline  _hadn't_ called security on him. He certainly looked like an unwashed ruffian. The napkins were right there, in the dispenser, and it would have been easy to pull a couple out and try to rub some of the grime off his face. But he didn't want Caroline to think he was washing up for her or something. This wasn't a damn  _date._ And  _no_ that  _wasn't_ disappointing, no matter what his gut was feeling right then. Instead of cleaning up Ford scooped out a handful of little creamer packets, stacking them into a tower. So busy with his project that he didn't notice Caroline's return to the table. **_[2]_**

"Well, I got black coffee. If it isn't your taste, I can get you something else," she said cheerily, plopping two cups of the stuff onto the table. **_[3]_**

He jumped and his pseudo dairy construction scattered across the floor. 

Several people turned to look at them. Caroline gave them something between a friendly wave and a dismissive gesture, and they went back to their own business.

But first, he heard someone mutter to their companion, "Didn't know she had a hobo boyfriend." 

He could feel his cheeks reddening. Whether from shame or embarrassment, that was the question.

Caroline picked up the fallen packets and placed them back on the table. "Careful with the Leaning Tower of Creamers..." She paused. "We haven't formally met, have we?"

She held out a hand to him. "The name's Caroline."

Ford froze. It didn't seem to be on purpose, but from the coffee to the way she just said that, even the proffered hand- 

 _P_ _lease, call me a friend._

It just reminded him of-

He found himself reflexively checking her eyes. Still the same honey-brown, no signs of possession past or present. 

"And you are...?" she prompted. **_[4]_  **

"Ah-Ford." He stood up a bit to shake, nearly sending his chair toppling. "Damn it." He took the time to right it, cheeks flushing deeper, before taking her clean, well manicured hand into his own filthy one. Her hand seemed very small caught between his extra digits. He didn't let himself stare, giving her a perfunctory shake before slamming back into his seat. The coffee sloshed onto the table almost in retaliation and he cursed, leaping up to grab at the previously ignored napkins. This wasn't a date, but it was still going horribly.

And now the people were looking at them again, some with curiosity, others amusement or pity. Caroline, still staring at the slowly-expanding brown puddle, didn't wave them off.

"Here, let me help," she finally said, reaching for several more napkins and dabbing at the liquid. "You can have my coffee- I haven't drank from it yet."

"It's fine. I'm fine. I got it." Blushing furiously and telling himself it was from anger, Ford slopped up the spill, hissing as the liquid burnt his fingers before shoving all the dripping paper into the now empty cup. He took the napkins from Caroline's hands gently and shuffled the whole mess over to the garbage, glaring the whole way. When he made his way back to the table, Caroline was still standing, looking rather confused.

"Ah... that was... rather gentlemanly of you. Ford." She gave him a sort of half-hearted smile.

Ford told himself  _not_ to pull out her chair and instead stood awkwardly next to his own, the stares of the other patrons sending shivers up his back. After a few moments, Caroline shrugged and pulled out her own seat, sitting down neatly. _**[5]**_

"They'll lose interest soon," she told him quietly. "Just sit down."

He cleared his throat, making a show of brushing down his coat before yanking his chair out and seating himself at the edge. 

"I can be a gentleman..." He mumbled sullenly, reaching over to collect more creamers and resuming tower construction. He probably looked like a toddler having lunch with his aunt, but he found he couldn't look up from the table. Instead he watched Caroline's hands out of the corner of his eye and poured most of his attention into a creamer arch- something made tricky by physics and the shape of the creamer packets.

"But you don't need to be." She laced her fingers together. "We're only here for business. Now, for the questions... I think you owe me an answer as to how you got here?"

Ford chuckled, tearing the top off one of the creamers mindlessly and dribbling it onto the table. Suddenly Bill's eye was staring at him from the Formica. His hand slammed over the top of it and half the diner turned to look at him. He was almost getting used to it. 

"Ahh, is it cliche to say 'you would never believe me'?" 

"Not particularly, but I work with the unbelievable," she replied nonchalantly. "So try me."

He rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses, letting out a sigh that drained him down to his toes. 

"I'm from an alternate universe." He peeked through his fingers but her expression hadn't changed, probably because she seemed to have already deduced that for herself. Still, saying you believed something and actually believing it were two different things. "In my world" And didn't those words feel strange in his mouth. "I'm a scientist..."

... _the man who changed the world..._

Bill's voice echoed through his head and his gaze jerked around the room, looking for yellow eyes and pupils like slits. There weren't any. He forced himself to breathe a little slower.

"I...I was studying paranormal phenomenon in a local town..." He wondered if there was a Gravity Falls in this dimension...maybe his research hours would be better spent there. "When I-" He squeezed his eyes shut and Bill was burned into his retinas. "I-I- I met-" 

_Hiya smart guy..._

_"-_ _someone..."_

_Just let me into your mind, Stanford..._

He wrenched his eyes open, rubbing one six fingered hand down his face, the other clenching in his hair. "He inspired the portal..." His stare stayed fixed upon the salt shaker as he spoke. "Did most of the heavy lifting if I'm honest...everything was going swimmingly at first..." Or so he'd thought. "But...there were complications..." He took in her expression for half a moment, before fixing back on the salt. "I'd rather not go into those now..." 

Caroline was silent for a moment, before finally saying, "That's fine. You can tell me more later." She nudged the remaining cup of coffee toward him, then proceeded with her next question. "Was there a specific reason why you chose to research the paranormal? It's a subject most in the science field frown upon."

"Well, I've always been fascinated by the inexplicable and I have a special kind of interest in...oddities." He held up a hand, stretching it out so that each finger could be counted. 

She must have counted them several times over, because there was a uncomfortably long pause. "Six fingers?" Caroline leaned forward in her seat, like she wanted to grab his hand to inspect it further. "Ah... If you don't mind?"

"Oh, uh, sure." He offered her both hands palm up, the chill of the tabletop seeping into his knuckles.

She picked one of his hands up, occasionally turning it over in her own. "Amazing... I haven't seen a person with extra digits since-" Her grip on his hand momentarily tightened. She murmured a few quiet words to herself- something about paperwork being handled- before relaxing. "Nevermind that."

"Right." He took his hands back and forced himself not to tuck them into his lap. "So, what do you think? Am I crazy or what?" 

"Mmm, I'll say 'what.' You seem honest enough in the regard." Caroline shrugged. "There's a slight possibility you're insane, or that you've had some run-in with a memory altering device, but I'm going to chalk that off as my paranoia kicking in. Anything you'd like to ask me?"

"Since you don't think I'm crazy, I suppose there's only one thing to ask you." His shoulders hunched, his eyes going to his lap and his hand to the back of his head. "Can you help me?" 

"It would depend on what you'd need help with. I can assist you in several ways, including getting you- how did you phrase it? Oh, I remember, pieces that aren't shit. That's what you said." Her voice was edging into resentment. 

"Your parts were shit, there's no need to get huffy about it." He met her sour expression full on, he wasn't about to apologize for being right. "If you can get me decent parts I should be able to construct another dimensional rift-one that can take me home." The word sent a zing of excitement and longing through him. "And who the hell knows maybe your Aperture guys can find some use for it."

She held his gaze for a few seconds, before looking away. "If you told me screws were shit, I could not have been any more annoyed. But in any case, yes, a portal to another universe is something we would like to use... for science, mind you. Though if any past experiments taught me anything, it's that banging metal parts together isn't everything. There's plenty of math behind science. And I haven't noticed anything like a notepad on you, so it seems you might just have to re-derive all those equations." 

"I'd tell you screws were shit if you gave me shitty screws." They had to sit in uncomfortable silence for a moment as Ford stared over her shoulder. All the talk of portals made him uneasy, as much as he needed one to take him home, the thought of putting something that powerful in the hands of strangers...Caroline seemed nice enough, and no he wasn't basing that assumption on how her legs looked, but Aperture was a big company, and Ford didn't know the first thing about how it was run or what its goals were, and as much as he hated to admit it, that scared him. He'd learned a lesson about trust he wasn't going to forget. "I'll admit I don't remember much of the mathematics aspect, but I won't exactly be starting cold." He fumbled in his pockets and pulled out a few crumpled notebook pages covered in messy equations, most of which were scratched out and passed them across the table. 

The woman flattened the pages the best she could, and her brows furrowed as she scanned them. "This is possibly one of the most untidy note-taking I've ever seen. And also the most bizarre- I mean..." She tapped a spot on the paper. "Multiplying by infinity? And then deriving the variable? I'm not even that good at calculus, but I- I'm pretty sure it should still be infinity. But it's like you've changed it to something else entirely! You might not be crazy, this is. Even in Aperture- we design things that shouldn't exist, but this is a totally different level of insane. If this is actually part of the equations you need to make the portal work..." She looked up. "You'd probably have to work alone."

"Fine. I get it." His face flushed to the roots of his hair. Ford gathered his papers back, undoing Caroline's careful smoothing by shoving them back into his pockets. "Well, thanks for the..." He gestured at her single coffee cup, flinging the creamers he'd been playing with back into their bowl. His chair flying back with a  _screech._ "I'll get out of your damn hair." 

She was taken aback, before standing up just as suddenly and tipping her chair over. The other customers were once again staring at them.

"No, no, that's not when I meant," she said. "You'll have to do a lot of work yourself because most people can't handle this. But given a bit of time and research, I _can_ help you." She glanced at the audience they had, and lowered her voice. "It's just not a simple job, if it's all like this. And maybe you're best off working on it by yourself, because you know exactly what you're doing. But you aren't going to be able to build anything out on the streets. Even if you gathered everything you needed you'll get noticed. You need a place to stay, parts to acquire, and maybe someone else to lighten the load. I can offer all of that. Some things may take longer than others, but I'll do it. You said you had someone else's help when you first made a portal, and obviously that didn't go to plan. But I can do better than him. Just... I'll need some time to get up to speed with your equation-solving methods, and to get the parts."

Ford froze. All the eyes on him sent his skin crawling, any one of them could be- be... He studied Caroline's eyes, her hands gripped tight to the lapels of his coat. Still that honeyed brown. Not a trace of  _Bill_ anywhere in them. 

"Oh." He inched back to the table, hating the flush he could feel in his cheeks. "Well that's different then..." 

He could see the relief spread across the lady's face. She released her hold, stepping away with a slightly embarrassed look. "Oh, I didn't mean to grab your coat." 

"That's fine, I shouldn't have..." He took a half a step back. "Mmhm. That all sounds..." He breathed slowly, putting a hand gently against her shoulder. "Thank you. I.. I can't tell you... just-Thanks." His lips quirked into a small smile, his first in...years.

"There's no need to thank me. I just..." She trailed off, and returned the smile. "You're welcome."

She looked like she was going to continue, but a loud sniffle interrupted them.

"It's so _nice_ to hear young 'uns fallin' for each other," a particularly elderly lady said. "Always so nice."

Ford jerked his hand back like it burned, his face flushed redder than a tomato, panic overtaking his face. 

"That's not- I don't- Not that you aren't- er-lovely, you're really very physically attractive- not that- I didn't-" _**[6]**_

Caroline raised a finger. He shut up.

"Now, Mrs. Hastings," she said to the old lady, "I've told you this before. My visits here aren't dates or anything of the sort. It's always been interviews, or business discussions. Why would this be any different?"

"I can just feel it, dear. You two would be brilliant together."

"Then it's a pity that I'm married." Caroline cast a glance at Ford, and added quietly, "To science. And my job." 

Ford snorted, offering her a relieved smile. 

"Right, and I'm unemployed and dirty and probably a drunk if I ever took the time to drink." It was depressing how true this all was. "You wouldn't want me corrupting Mrs. Caroline with my... vagrancy."

"I'll tell you, son, she's messed with a worse sort. But, dear," the old lady continued to Caroline, "you'll see I was right later. Go on with your business."

Ford watched the old woman toddle off with one eyebrow buried in his hairline. 

"What a...interesting...woman. Friend of yours?" He turned to her, his cheeks still faintly pink beneath the grime on his face.

"She's more of a friendly acquaintance, if anything," Caroline replied. "I often run into her here. Personally reminds me of my mother." She tossed her hair and raised her voice to a falsetto. "Caroline, darling, you're twenty-eight, and you still haven't found a husband. When are you going to learn science isn't everything?"

He laughed, glad to hear it wasn't too strained. 

"Sounds sorta like my brother. He never really got the science thing either." He opened his mouth to do his own unflattering impression but... well... he hadn't seen Stanley in so long, it seemed unfair to be making judgments on him. The sentence died in his throat and he coughed, looking to the floor. "You'd probably like him, he was a real ladies' man." He winked, offering a meager smile. 

If anything, Caroline looked less than impressed to hear that, her smile becoming a little strained. "I'm going to have to take your word for it," she said, picking up the probably now-cold coffee neither of them touched. "Last thing I want to hear is another cheesy pick-up line. I've went though enough of them to last me several lifetimes. I suppose it comes with being secretary, but really now."

"Ha, right..." He turned his attention to the floor, scuffing his shoes across the linoleum. What the hell was he doing? Acting like a love stuck school boy that's what. He didn't have time for this. He needed to be taking action- stopping Bill, building the portal, going  _home._ But this woman had really knocked him off kilter. He hated it. He  _wanted_ to hate it. He didn't hate it...

"Anyway, Ford," she said, jolting him out of his train of thought, "not sure if you picked it up earlier, but I offered lodging."

"You did?" He looked at her in surprise, Mrs. Hastings's assumptions still echoing in his head. He couldn't afford the distractions. He really couldn't. "That was... nice of you..." Too nice? Did people usually offer to house complete strangers? Could he take the risk? "I really wouldn't want to be a- a bother..." 

"It's fine." She smiled at him a little uncertainly, her hands worrying around the coffee cup and he could swear he could see a touch of pink in her cheeks. This could all be a front... she could be using him. No, she  _was_ using him, she's said right at the start that her Aperture company could make use of his research... but she could be using him for more than she's admitting. He should keep his distance. His mouth opened. 

"Well, if you're sure..." 

Her own smile widened. "Excellent." 

Ford blinked. That wasn't how that was meant to go. Not at all. But her tone left no room for argument, and with the addition of many eyes turned to them... there was no way out that didn't involve looking like a complete asshole or getting immediately shut down. And while he could take the insult, the chances of him getting what he needed would drop to almost nothing. He couldn't refuse her.

A revelation that should've happened so much earlier finally occurred to him.

She had it all planned- _of course_ a secretary of a major company had it planned.

So much for winning every scientific debate he had participated- his lack of foresight just made him lose to a set mind, decent planning, and simple charm. 

Ford could see how she got her position.

In a right, she just proved herself to be potentially more dangerous than Bill. Yes, she didn't seem malevolent in intent. Yes, she seemed earnest in wanting to help. But she had manipulated the situation to get the result she wanted. And seeing past façades was never Ford's strong suit. He couldn't trust anyone. Hell, that was his mantra: _t_ _rust no one_. 

Yet he played right into her hands. Distracted by his own desperation, blinded by the hope he could see home again... probably didn't help that she was attractive... **_[7]_**

He was staring. He jerked his face away, scratching awkwardly at his neck, feeling the strangers in the café smirking and staring and-

"So what now?" Ford forced himself to speak, trying to shake free of his rising anxiety. It didn't work so well. What had he gotten himself into?

"What else? I'll take you to my place. Unless you plan on finding it yourself- and it's honestly not too hard to do that either."

She seemed far too amused for his liking.

He harrumphed grumpily, waving a hand toward the door in invitation. 

"By all means. Lead the way." 

 

**_[8]_  **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **The Authors Talking to Each Other and/or Goofing Off:**  
>   
>  **[1]:**  
>  **Rani-** I am converting this into chapter 2. For real.  
>  **Kira-** Well goodie  
>  **Rani-**...are you mocking me?  
>  **Kira-** Of course not  
>  **Rani-** I don't know how to make a squinty face...so *squint*  
>  **Kira-** *shrugs*
> 
>  **[2]:**  
>  _Regarding "[...] no matter what his gut was feeling right then"_  
>  **Rani-** Does this make sense?  
>  **Kira-** Absolutely
> 
>  **[3]:**  
>  **Rani-** Insert Caroline here. I cannot.  
>  _Kira writes this line._  
>  **Kira-** There, my girl Caroline said her thing  
>  **Rani-** Well done!
> 
>  **[4]:**  
>  _Rani made an edit, but Kira squishes her own thoughts in_  
>  **Kira-** END OF MY SQUASHED EDIT, FEEL FREE TO ADD/SUBTRACT FROM IT  
>  **Rani-** Yes I like it. Is a good flashback. Well... good as in well written, I doubt Ford enjoyed it.
> 
>  **[5]:**  
>  _regarding some misinterpretation/miscommunication between the authors that led to a bit of a mess, mainly because Kira is an unrefined person who forgot pulling out a lady's chair so she could sit is the polite thing to do._  
>  **Rani-** Ford can't want to pull out her chair if she's sitting down. I can edit my line I'm just drawing a blank as to how...  
>  _Kira edits but AO3 didn't save it. She returns later to fix it up_  
>  **Kira-** I swear I edited it, but still applies: My mistake, I think my brain derped.
> 
>  **[6]:**  
>  _random conversation, following the writing of Ford's sad attempt at an excuse_  
>  **Kira-** Ah, excuses at their finest, right there. Anyway, this is the line. Also, sorry from the very-little line I added.  
>  **Rani-** It's true!! And you're links don't work until we post the chapter. Right now they're just blue words. _(she's referring to[a link Kira showed her](https://i1.theportalwiki.net/img/7/74/Cave_Johnson_fifties_intro07.wav))_ You always add good stuff no matter how much.  
>  **Kira-** Try while on the main, not-editing page. Also I would like to disagree.  
>  **Rani-** That would make sense, I don't know why I've never tried that... and you are biased against yourself so you can't disagree. It's not allowed.  
>  **Kira-** I HAVE THE RIGHT TO DISAGREE EVEN IF MY OPINION IS SKEWED. Plus, still no two donkeys.  
>  **Rani-** NEGATIVE! The donkeys are imaginary, there names are Frank and Gespatcho.  
>  **Kira-** Who allowed you to name them?  
>  **Rani-** I did, isn't it great?! :D  
>  **Kira-** Bah donkeys. Donkeys lead to me thinking of horses, and horses make me think of... her. DQ. The queen of unicorn poop ice cream.  
>  don't tell her I said that  
> Also, sorry I didn't add much.  
>  **Rani-** My lips are sealed. But you realize that if she reads this you're basically going to have told her yourself, right?  
>  You added plenty. Sorry it took me forever to add my tiny speck, I wasn't sure where to jump in at, I hope what I put is acceptable?  
>  **Kira-** DQ? Read MY stuff? PFFFFT.  
>  Anyway, I just told her myself.  
>  **Rani-** Did she eat you?  
>  **Kira-** Nah. She was all "and there's Kira, with her unicorn poop obsession." lol
> 
>  **[7]:**  
>  _Kira writes little odd snippets, that didn't save thanks to AO3... *squints at the platform and shakes fist* But she writes them again_  
>  **Kira-** I swear I edited this earlier. But anyway. No idea how Ford would get into this train of thought, so feel free to exclude  
>  _Rani adds her things_  
>  **Rani-** I did my best to make it match up feel free to edit the Caroline bits.  
>  **Kira-** Great job, luv, definitely worth the two-day wait. Not sarcastic, by the way. I'm 1500% honest. ...that was also honest, by the way.
> 
>  **[8]:**  
>  _random conversation snippet regarding justification of swearing and the "debunkment" of math_  
>  **Rani-** Ford has more of a potty mouth than I anticipated....  
>  **Kira-** What, you think you wouldn't if you were away from everything you've ever known for three years? Also, I went ahead and looked at the equations Ford and Bill were working on, and the one that was definitely discernable was 2y', which Bill corrected to infinity times y'. Crazy stuff yo  
>  **Rani-** I don't curse much outside of literature... I remember the infinity times y... I don't understand math....  
>  **Kira-** Math is not meant to be understood. It is arbitrary. There is no two.  
>  **Rani-** What?? What happened to the two???  
>  **Kira-** Nothing is exact. There is one, there is everything, but there is no two. Or three. Or five million.  
>  **Rani-** ...... well. My grasp of numbers just inexplicably shrunk...  
>  **Kira-** Welcome to math, where nothing makes bloody sense.


End file.
